To Mischief and Mayhem
by Ecila
Summary: A Marauder Story. Nobody ever says the word, but Lily can feel it in her bones. The stigma of being a "Mudblood" is a hard one to bare at Hogwarts during Voldemort's reign, and not helped by the conceitedly ignorant actions of that Potter boy.
1. Potions and roots

The silver ladle swished around the contents of the cauldron with only a trace of resistance to mar its passage. A soft and slightly visible fume exuded from the potion. The girl pursed her lips carefully as she gave the ladle three more turns around the simmering liquid before allowing a smile to flash upon her lips for an instant. The consistency had developed nicely, and she could detect a faint whiff of the shredded newt legs.

Her eyes quickly skimmed the open page in front of her.

_200 grams of fennel root._

Lily's hand automatically reached for the spot where the root had been sitting awaiting its destruction only a moment ago. Her hand found nothing. Confused, Lily's attention was diverted from the wafting fumes as she frantically scanned her work desk, searching under and around books and other ingredients.

"10 minutes until judgement time!" Slughorn's ever-jovial voice boomed around the dungeon.

Lily swore under her breath, now bent low rummaging through her ingredients store, searching for a spare root. No luck.

A loud squelching sound came from above her head, causing her to immediately pop her head above the desk and stare, with a sinking heart and a rising panic, into the cauldron, the contents of which had now turned purple and was bubbling dangerously. Lily grabbed the ladle once more and began to frantically zoom it around the cauldron in a fruitless attempt to reverse the effects of over simmering.

Across the room, a pudgy boy leant on a bench staring wide-eyed and gaping mouthed at the boy next to him. In contrast to Peter's own, long forgotten, sickly green coloured potion, the potion his friend was casually stirring was coming along nicely.

Laying down the ladle, he took a long, exaggerated sniff of the fumes, wafting them towards his nose with his hand. He grinned and his hand pushed the dark hair that had been falling across his forehead upwards before he reached for the root that was now sitting on his work desk.

His companion's gape, if possible, widened. "But I thought you were out of fennel root?"

Another grin flashed the dark haired boy's face. "Was, my charming friend, _was_ out of fennel root." He dropped the root into the cauldron and began to stir in zigzagged patterns. "'Was' being the key word there." He added with a sly grin.

"Time is nearly up!"

With one last decisive sniff of his potion, the boy surreptitiously pulled a silver flask from his bag and filled it with the potion that was now omitting a very faint glow.

"And ladles down!"

Slughorn beamed around the room, apparently expecting more than the dishevelled faces appeared to be offering. Peering into the cauldrons of those around him, the dark haired boy could not see any reason for the professor's optimism. There was a variety of different coloured liquids omitting unpleasant smells, however, very few looked remotely similar to the description given of a correctly brewed euphoria potion in their books. Especially not the vile smelling purple substance that was bubbling over the rim of the cauldron Slughorn was disdainfully inspecting. The frantic student beside him tried desperately to explain that it had been going perfectly until some of her ingredients had disappeared.

The boy turned as a parchment bird rammed into the back of his head, sweeping out of reach of his hands, did a somersault, then returned for a second attack. He caught it mid-flight and unfolded it beneath the desk.

A single word was written on the crinkled page in messy, loopy writing.

'_Well?'_

He looked over to where his dreadlocked friend was sitting looking expectantly at him, wand still dangling in his fingers.

Seizing his quill, he grinned back and wrote the words _'It's perfect'_ on the parchment before sending it back with a flick of his wand and a muttered incantation.

Avoiding the attempt to dive bomb his dreadlocks, his friend caught the bird on it's upward swing and unfolded it. His face broke out into a mischievous smile and his eyes flashed.

Next to him, he heard Peter whimper as Slughorn peered cautiously into his cauldron and withdrew hurriedly in a fit of coughs. When he had sufficiently recovered, he turned to face James with a slightly less optimistic look on his face than when he had first surveyed the array of cauldrons.

"Let's see, Potter," he said, taking up the ladle and stirring the liquid. "Will you be the one to turn this class around? …Well, I say! This is quite an attempt!" He lifted the ladle to his nose. "Perhaps a little stronger than I would have liked…" He took another sniff and let out an involuntary giggle that he attempted to cover with a cough. "Yes, perhaps a lot stronger… I suspect the drinker of this potion would be er… quite content for quite a long time."

The boy put on his best sheepish face, but snuck a grin at his dreadlocked friend when Slughorn's attention was off him once more.

"Well class," Slughorn boomed, his words echoing slightly around the stone walls. "I do believe we have found a winner in Mr Potter! The Bicorn horn is yours!" He said as he presented a rather yellowish, tusk-like object to James. "An excellent addition to any advanced wizard's store, or simply a pleasing artefact. Quite an interesting story behind these horns, actually, just received a crate from my good friend Gerald Finch-Fletch–"

The sharp ringing of the bell saved the class from an irksome story about tusks, and inevitably, the man who gave Slughorn the tusks.

The noise of cauldrons being drained and ingredients bring packed up filled the room. James made to go, sweeping the contents of his worktable into his bag with his wand.

"Good work today, Potter, very good work indeed." Slughorn said to James as he magically drained his cauldron.

"Thanks, Professor. That means a lot." He said in what sounded like a sincere voice, pulling his bag onto his back and mentally calculating the best possible route out of the dungeon that would most subtly avoid him being drawn into a conversation.

"Of course, it's hardly surprising, though is it? Generations of great wizards in your family of course, and witches too of course. Naturally I knew your father when I was at school… Much talent there, much talent. All goes to show, doesn't it? Good blood and all…"

"Oh look, Professor! My friend Peter's bag's just split!" James interrupted suddenly, hastily hiding his wand in his sleeve. "I'd better go help him. Thanks for the er… tusk-thing." He said as he bounded across the dungeon to where Peter was standing looking shocked at his bad luck.

James quickly repaired the bag. "Sorry about that, chap. Slughorn was starting another rant."

"You… did that?" Peter looked from his bag to James and back again.

"Had to. Matter of self-preservation. It was either that or set fire to my boots, and these are real dragon hide. Come on."

Hastily exiting the dungeon he quickly spotted Sirius further down the corridor and caught up with him, clapping him on the back.

"Sirius, my man, mission accomplished." He said, absentmindedly passing him the horn and pulling out the silver flask he had filled during Potions, waving it under Sirius' nose. "How lucky you are that you are so blessed in your choice of friends that they are so witty, talented, quick thinking and resourceful enough so as to accomplish the arrangement of tasks that so ensure our constant schedule of … mayhem making."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and shook his head disbelievingly, making his dreadlocks dangle. "Resourceful? Quick-witted? My dear James, you cooked up a potion, you didn't invade a small country."

"Yeah, but he still had to come up with the fennel root." Piped up Peter, coming up behind them.

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"That's right, Sirius. Things were looking extremely bleak for a moment. The potion was congealing nicely , twice the usual amount of grasshoppers' legs had been added, but alas, there was no root of fennel to be found!" He cried dramatically. "Luckily, yours truly is not one to be easily defeated. He spotted a vacant root on a nearby desk and one simple 'accio' later he had a terrific potion that's guaranteed to make even McGonagall dance around the great hall."

Sirius grinned and gave an exaggerated clap of his hands. "We'll have to see about that last part. In the mean time, if you're done bragging, would you mind very much if we hurried along to the Great Hall?"

James smiled. "But of course."

His smile dropped as a red headed girl shoved roughly past him. "Hey!" He called out angrily, but the girl disappeared behind a corner without turning. "Well that's nice." He said to the others.

"Well, from behind anyway." Sirius said with a sly grin. He pulled aside a tapestry and motioned towards it. "Come along, children."


	2. In a muggle

Still fuming over her embarrassing defeat in Potions, Lily Evans strode across the Entrance Hall, scattering a group of nervous looking first years as she strode through them.

Her angry stride was broken, however, when a pair of hands clamped down on her shoulders from behind.

"Lily-girl! What's the rush?" Lily turned to stare into the beaming face of Terry Turpin.

A smile broke onto her face and she pulled the Ravenclaw into a hug. "Terry! God I've missed you!"

"Calm down, Lily-girl, it was only a few months of summer, not a few years." But his twinkling eyes as he spoke betrayed the laughter behind the jibe. "Although I won't pretend I wasn't hurt by your avoidance of me these last couple of days…"

Lily punched his arm playfully. "Summer for you may have been a wonderful, blissful couple of months with all the joys a full-blooded wizard can enjoy in the wizarding world, but I was cut off! Trapped! In the muggle suburbia, no less! With the most muggled muggle of all – my sister!"

Sympathy crossed Terry's face. "That bad was it?"

"Worse."

He pulled his face into a jaunty kind of smile, attempting to be encouraging. "Oh well, you're back at Hogwarts again! You can relax now."

"Relax?" Lily asked, raising an eyebrow. "In our fifth year? With our owls looming and the professors all breathing down our necks and giving us lectures on how we can't afford to relax?"

Terry laughed. "You should have been in Ravenclaw, Lily. You'd fit right in. I think a few of the girls are already showing signs of impending breakdowns. Lucy Bradfurst came back from Transfiguration last night and sat down staring at a wall, breathing much too heavily, for over an hour. And it's only the third day of term."

"Oh no… if the Ravenclaws aren't coping, how am I meant to?"

"Oh calm down, Lily-girl. You're one of the best in our year! You'll do fine."

Stunned momentarily by the compliment, Lily waved it off. "No I'm not. I'm not even pure-blood. And my euphoria potion was a complete disaster today in Potions!" She added when Terry opened his mouth to protest about her comment about blood.

"Although that was partly due to sabotage," she continued, remembering her anger. "Some jerk decided it would be funny to steal my fennel root."

"Why'd they do that?" Terry asked, looking genuinely baffled.

"Isn't it relatively obvious?"

"No… not really?"

Sighing wearily, Lily raked a hand through her long red hair. "Forget it. You wouldn't understand: you're pure-blood. Listen, let's just go into lunch, I'm starving."

Frowning slightly, Terry followed Lily's lead and headed into the Great Hall where the mass of the student body were sprawled out along four long tables in a noisy mess.

"I'll be in the library after dinner if you wanted to join me later." Terry said, pausing just inside the large doors to the hall. Doing her best to pull a weak smile onto her face Lily nodded. "I'll have to see how I go, but I might see you."

Flashing her one last smile, Terry gave a cheerful wave and walked away towards the Ravenclaw table, where he sat with a group of guys, a few of whom had their noses buried in books but greeted him as he sat nonetheless.

Glancing at the Gryffindor table, Lily saw to her dismay that the dark haired boy who had boasted of stealing her root was sitting nearby, having somehow beat her to the Great Hall. Next to him, the dreadlocked boy was tossing small tomatoes in the air for him to explode with his wand, much to the delight and laughter of a small boy sitting across from them, and a gaggle of giggling fourth year girls looking on with adoring eyes.

Lily sighed again and made her way to the other end of the table. Not passing any familiar, friendly faces, Lily sat alone and mechanically reached for a buttered roll.

Pulling a book from her bag at random and propping it up on the table before her, she tried desperately to concentrate on the words.

But the nagging feeling attached to her sinking heart kept distracting her.

Lily loved Hogwarts. Loved the castle. Loved the grounds. Loved the history. Loved the classes, and the magic she learned in them. She felt more at home here than she had growing up in the muggle world, with the constant fear that she would be exposed as the freak she had thought she was. The one responsible for all those little unexplained "accidents" that kept occurring. Here at Hogwarts she wasn't treated as a freak. She was surrounded by other freaks, so to say. Here at Hogwarts she found she could be happy. Yet sometimes… sometimes even here she felt like an outsider. As though she was only second rate. Four years of off-hand comments and snide remarks left a bitter imprint on her.

Of course Terry wouldn't understand the significance of her fennel root being stolen. He had never known the stigma of being muggle-born.


	3. Mice and Mischief

A bleak, overcast sky filled the ceiling of the Great Hall, seemingly echoing the general mood of the school students as they groaned and yawned their way through breakfast, still adjusting to the early morning routine of school life.

Two students, however, skipped into the Hall merrily – showing more life and enthusiasm that the rest of their fellow students put together.

Sirius Black and James Potter chose seats within a close proximity to the staff table, Sirius swinging his chair around before sitting so that his chest leaned against the high back as he faced the table. Casually, he pulled out a timetable from his bag and scanned it.

"Oh, look. We have double Transfiguration this morning." He said with a grin, as though both boys had not been keenly aware of this fact already.

"Really? I do so hope that McGonagall is in a good mood." James replied, his voice containing all the traces of mock sincerity.

"Just remember, you promised me dancing, and I expect results." Sirius said, his grin widening.

"Sirius, my friend, if she doesn't dance, I, myself, will personally make 10 laps of the Great Hall doing the waltz."

"Done." He said, taking James' hand and shaking it firmly. "Now, would you like to create the distraction? Or shall I?"

"Leave it to me. Here; take my cloak." James said, puling a length of slivery material from his bag along with a silver flask and handing them to Sirius.

James raised the goblet of pumpkin juice before him into the air. "To mischief." He said grinning.

Sirius clinked it with the flask. "And mayhem."

Draining the juice, James headed off towards the Hufflepuff table as Sirius ducked beneath the table.

Surreptitiously pulling out his wand and muttering under his breath, James watched with gleaming eyes as unattended goblets near a group of Hufflepuff girls sprouted hair and transformed into mice on the table.

The shrieks and screams and scraping of chairs that ensued were enough to draw the attention of the whole Hall. The girls clambered onto the tops of their chairs as the mice, numbering at least 20, spread out around the hall.

Seeing an opportunity, James raced to the side of a petrified fourth year witch, stranded in the centre of the swarm of rodents. Calling a chair over to them, he lifted her up onto it, flashing her a gallant smile, before turning to the mice, wand poised, and shouting at the top of his voice. "STUPEFY! IMPEDIMENTA! IMOBILUS!"

Flashes of light burst out of the end of his wand, but always seemed to narrowly miss the targets, causing instead chaos as they hit golden plates and goblets which clattered loudly to the floor, spilling their contents onto the stone tiles.

James threw a glance towards the staff table where half the professors, McGonagall included, were on their feet and hurrying over to the scene of chaos.

"James Potter! – Enough!" McGonagall's highly stretched voice screeched at him as he let loose another incantation, sending a bowl of cereal toppling loudly.

"He turned and gave her a blank look. "Did I do something wrong, Professor?"

The glare that the enflamed professor shot at him would have been enough to make any ordinary student tremble in his boots.

In a minute or so, the teachers had completely immobilised the mice and Flitwick was hastily cleaning up the mess with his wand.

McGonagall turned back to James, her jaw seemed to be quivering in an effort to keep it clenched tightly and her voice, when she spoke, came out in a forced, flat manner. Her eyes burned daggers.

"Next time, Potter, that there is a rodent problem in the Hall, I would kindly thank you to proceed calmly to the staff table and inform a professor, rather than resort to your own destructive methods."

James smiled at her happily. "Oh yes, Professor. Of course, Professor. Sorry for the inconvenience."

With one final piercing glare, the professor stalked off towards the staff table.

"I guess she's not a morning person, then." James said cheerfully to the fourth year still standing on the chair behind him.

She giggled.

James looked over his shoulder to the Gryffindor table where Sirius was serenely sitting eating his toast. A large grin was plastered over his face as he met James' eye.

Feeling satisfied with his mischief managed, James made his way around those who were gingerly getting down from their chairs, taking the seat next to his friend. As he sat, he noticed a red haired witch get up and stalk away frowning.

"Toast?" Sirius asked, holding a large plate of marmalade toast beneath his nose. James took a piece and bit into it contentedly.

"How long, d'you reckon?" Asked Sirius, pushing his dreadlocks out of his face.

James frowned thoughtfully. "10, maybe 15 minutes? Depending on how long she takes to drink it, of course."

The chair next to him scraped and was filled the figure of Peter Pettigrew. He sat, staring groggily around him, rubbing his eyes vigourously. His hair looked in a state nearly as unkempt as James' own.

"Morning, Petey. Up at last? You missed all the fun." Said Sirius.

Peter's groggy face stared around him, taking in the excited murmurs that ran around the hall. "What happened?"

Sirius shrugged. "No idea. Grab some toast, we're off to class."

Peter quickly gulped down the mouthful of juice he had just taken, spluttering slightly as he did. "But what? I just came down!"

James grinned at him as he stood up and pulled his bag over his shoulder. "We want good seats."


	4. A Flock of Geese

Sauntering into the Hospital Wing, the trio of fifth years swept open the hangings of the bed furthest from the door of Madame Pomfrey's office. The window adjacent to the bed offered a dazzling view of the grounds, showing students who were enjoying their lunch hour outside.

The boys jumped onto the bed. The occupants gave a muffled yell. A groggy hand removed the pillow that was covering his face. He was pale – unusually pale. And strands of hair stuck to his clammy forehead. He looked up at the three bodies that had ungraciously plonked themselves on his bedspread with weary eyes underlined with dark purple shadows. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, his dreadlocked friend gave a low whistle.

"They hurt, mate?" Sirius asked, motioning towards the searing red teeth marks that were visible on his exposed arm.

Remus grimaced wryly, but said nothing, pulling the blankets over the marks instead.

"Well, old chum, we have something that is bound to cheer you up." Said James, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

Remus' interest perked. "You did it?"

"Did we ever."

"It was superb!"

"Marvellous, even!"

"A true miracle of pranking genius!"

"You should have been there!" Added the sqeauky voice of Peter.

The other two shot him an exasperated look.

"Not that it was an easy feat to pull off, mind you." James continued.

"Oh, no. See, brewing the correct potency was one thing, quite simple when it's all said and done." James raised his eyes at Sirius. "But the problem remained of getting said potion into McGonagall's goblet under her ever-watchful eye."

"Luckily, causing distraction comes naturally to some of us…"

"As, apparently, does cockiness. If you ask me, the hero act and bravado wasn't absolutely necessary."

"Well that's because you have no natural flair in that department." James returned, smiling sardonically.

"And thank-god for that." Sirius said, smiling sweetly back.

"And the potion?" Remus cut in impatiently.

"Well it worked a treat of course. Such a swift change in her demeanour! One minute, screaming, yelling, foam practically frothing at her lips… the next, the was waltzing into the classroom humming!"

"I'd hardly call it waltzing. It was more like a few consecutive side steps."

"It was a waltz. She waltzed in and sat on her desk. On top of her desk! Cross-legged! And she actually smiled!"

"At us, no less!"

"My heart was all a flutter…"

"And she looked around the class, literally beaming, and says –"

"– in this dreamy voice as though she hadn't a care in the world –"

"– euphoria does that to you – she says: 'Take out your wands and transfigure me something nice.' And so naturally we obliged."

"While the rest of the class sat there stone-shocked, as though they actually _wanted_ to learn the theory behind transfiguring previously transfigured objects into new objects, we set about transfiguring a world-class menagerie."

"The classroom filled with sound: squawks, squeals, shrieks and shouts."

"Books were flying everywhere as a flock of geese –"

"– A _gaggle _of geese…" Remus interjected, smiling.

"As a _flock_ of geese," James continued pointedly, "flew low over the tables, knocking parchment and quills to the ground."

"Tables that soon turned into an assortment of animals. Pigs, goats, giraffes, and I do believe even a lion…"

"I was quite proud of that bit of magic, myself…" Remarked James, casually.

"The witch whose table it was didn't look too pleased."

"Obviously she was just jealous."

"Oh, obviously. It was definitely jealously that her shrieks indicated." Said Sirius with a laugh.

James sighed happily. "Ah, it was such sweet pandemonium."

"And all with McGonagall beaming over us, shouting praise for our transfiguration!"

"Such a glorious day…"

Remus smiled, amused. "And in all this glorious pandemonium, did you manage to find the time to approach McGonagall about your little query?"

Sirius and James exchanged a look.

"Well…"

"Er…"

"You see, we did…"

"After the chaos had been going on for a good 20 minutes…"

"And most of the students were occupied fending off the animals…"

"And McGonagall had come over to congratulate us on our work…"

"Skipped over, more like…"

"Besides the point, James, try to focus. So we casually drew her into a conversation about the merits and difficulties of animal transfiguration…"

"An easy thing to do – Minerva is quite chatty when under the influence…"

"And we subtly dropped a compliment about how much work she must have done to achieve self-animal transfiguration at will…"

"And how obviously it must have been very difficult to become an animagus…"

"And just as we were casually –"

"– Ever so casually –"

"– Asking her how she did it…"

"We were interrupted."

"By the witch whose table had been turned into a lion, what was her name again, James?"

"I don't know… The red-headed one."

"Well, anyway, she came up, panting slightly, and asked, in a slightly panicked voice, how on earth she was meant to get rid of the lion that was chasing her around the room. And McGonagall smiled serenely at her, and suggested that she try asking it nicely. And then she flitted away over to the window and started humming again."

"So you didn't find out." Remus said, no trace of surprise in his voice.

"No." Said James, flatly. "We didn't find out."

"So your efforts today were all for nothing?"

"Well I wouldn't exactly say for nothing…" Sirius drawled.

James grinned. "I do believe that Abbey Smothely is still being chased by that flock of geese."

"You mean you didn't change the animals back?"

"What are you mad?"

"Waste our one chance of creating havoc with a teacher's consent?"

Remus looked from one to the other. "What about the lion?"

James' brow furrowed, puzzled. "What _about_ the lion?"


	5. What about the tiger indeed?

The lion was following the redheaded girl.

Lily had burst out of the Transfiguration classroom as soon as the bell had sounded. She hit the corridor at a run, wove desperately in and out of students, clambered up and down half a dozen staircases, even streaked through every hidden passageway that she knew of. Unfortunately, the shrieks and screams that continued to erupt behind her told her that all her efforts were to no avail. It was still following her.

She did the one thing she could think of doing.

She ran to the Library.

Bursting through the doors and causing them to bang, earning her a very stern glare, she scanned the nearly deserted tables and the rows of shelves until she found what she was looking for.

"Terry!" She half-whispered, half yelled, sprinting over to where he was searching the shelves.

Terry turned and looked her up and down, taking in her dishevelled appearance. He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "Yes..?" He asked hesitantly.

With a quick look over her shoulder, she grabbed him and pulled him further down the aisle. "I have a slight, tiny, major… actually really, really huge problem." Her voice shook slightly, holding traces of panic.

"What is it?"

Mutely, Lily pointed in the direction of the Library door, and Terry poked his head around the shelf.

He jumped and let out a yell, whirling round.

"Lily! That's a lion! Why is there a lion in the Library?"

"It appeared in Transfiguration… It's following me…"

"Why?"

"I don't know!"

Terry poked his head once more around the shelf gingerly, as though to reaffirm to himself that it really was there.

"Can't you just… get rid of it… please?" Lily begged, voice taught with panic.

"And how do you suggest I do that?"

"Transfigure it or something!"

"Lily, I can't transfigure that!"

"Why not? You're good at Transfiguration!"

"Not that good! I might mess it up! And then it would get mad! And then your problem would be really, really, really huge!"

"So what am I meant to do?"

"Go to Professor McGonagall." He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Lily scowled. "I did. She said to 'ask it nicely to stop following me'."

Terry's eyes widened. "Er… she said that?"

Lily nodded distractedly. "What am I going to do?" She repeated.

"Well… you could always… er… have you _tried_ asking it nicely?"

Lily said nothing – the look she gave Terry more than sufficing for an answer.

"Right then." Terry snuck another look at the lion, looked thoughtful for a minute, glanced again at the lion, then turned back to Lily. "So… you say it's just been following you? Not attacking you?"

"No. Not yet anyway."

"Right." He said again. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Asked Lily, not moving.

"To get lunch. I'm hungry."

"And the lion?"

Terry shrugged. "It can come too. Let's go, we only have 20 minutes until class."

"But…"

Ignoring her protests, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the door.

The lion raised its head from whee it had been resting it placidly on its paws as they passed. Lily gave it a wide berth, scampering around the tables now completely devoid of students. Terry seemed nonplussed.

As they reached the door Lily heard the sound of its large padded feet on the marble floor behind them.

She started to walk faster.

* * *

"So what do you suppose we do now?"

James threw the ball he was holding against the stone wall of the courtyard. It hissed as it hit, bouncing easily back into his waiting hand. He paused, considering his answer, then threw the ball again. "We've checked nearly every book in the library…"

Sirius sighed, exasperated. "Every book, James. We've checked all of them. All we've found is tidbits. Extracts. Nothing that gives us any real indication of how to do it ourselves."

Remus delicately put down the quill that he had been using as he looked over Peter's homework. "You could just give up…" He spoke slowly. Above him, the afternoon sunlight filtered through the branches of a small tree, casting a wan light over the boys. "It's too hard, even for you two. You've been searching for years and you've found nothing. Thank you for trying, but really, it's alright…"

"No." James cut in, his voice firm as he met Remus' eye. He inhaled deeply and turned back to Sirius. "We haven't checked every book."

James waited until Sirius' expression changed from puzzlement to comprehension.

A smile slowly spread across his lips as he scratched his chin. "Now that's a very good point…"

Peter sat up straighter on the stone bench, looking from one to the other expectantly. "What's a very good point?"

On Remus' forehead a frown line had appeared. "Don't. Not there. It's too risky."

Sirius rolled his head around to look at Remus, his eyebrows raised in a curious expression. "What's the worst that could possibly happen? A slap on the hand from that lovely Madam Pince?"

"You know it would be worse than that. There are reasons why students aren't allowed to look at those books. Do you really think they'd be unprotected?"

James smiled widely. Some might say it made him look cocky. "We'll risk it."

There was a drop in their conversation as a group of fourth year girls fluttered across the courtyard, they took their time, enjoying the afternoon sun and leisure.

James acknowledged them with a nod of his head, hand unconsciously passing over his hair.

"Tonight, then?" Sirius asked him after the girls had disappeared around a corner.

James nodded, drawing his attention back to the group. "Either of you two feel like coming along for the stroll?"

If there was any uncertainty held within Peter's head, it didn't show as he nodded vigorously.

Remus continued to frown.

* * *

A/N:

I haven't done one of these yet and I'm planning on making this one very short. I won't insult your intelligence by writing a disclaimer. You can't possibly think that I came up with the world of Harry Potter. If I had, why would I be writing fanfiction for it?

Thankyou to those who reviewed, especially NAO - You're comments were really appreciated, and I agree with you about chapters 3 and 4. I'm not sure how exceptional this chapter is, but I am hoping to take this down an original as possible path in future chapters.

The next chapter should be up tomorrow, folks. I just need to look over it, which will probably get down quicker if I have reviews to spur me on.

Adios, mes reviewers!


	6. A long night

It was on her bed. It had followed her all day and now, the lion was on her bed.

Caught in a shaft of moonlight, one paw was easily visible as it hung over the edge of the elaborate four-poster, the sharp claws glinting in the silver light.

Lily stood, shock still, her left hand still lingering on the door to the bathroom from which she had just exited. Her other hand groped for her wand. She held it poised, her mind running through a multitude of spells silently. If only she had the nerve to try any of them. Her lips remained still. Something inside of her told her it would be foolish for a muggle-born witch to take on a fully-grown lion.

Terry was right. She didn't want to aggravate it. Really didn't.

The muscles of the beast rippled, shifting position.

Lily gulped.

She scanned the room frantically. The other occupants of the dorm were encapsulated behind their curtains, oblivious to the beast's presence. She wished she were in the same blissful position.

There was no help to be had from them, even if they would have given it. As always, she was on her own. She could feel her fingers become clammy. Her wand, a mere stick in her hand, slipped slightly. She tightened her grip, ignoring the nails that dug into her hand.

She turned her head to the left. The door to the staircase was a mere four metres away. The distance had never seemed further.

Slowly, she edged her way along the wall, leaving her eyes trailed on the lion, lest it make any sudden movements in her direction.

At one crucial moment, her foot scuffed on the stone floor, the sound seeming to echo around the room dramatically. She saw the lion stir. Saw its muscles move as it lifted its head slightly. She held her breath, not daring to move.

After what seemed like an eternity, it settled, its head dropping back down to the mattress with a soft thump.

Lily restrained the sigh of relief that was itching to escape her lips and, after a moment, resumed her path to the door.

She felt like weeping with relief as her fingers touched the bronze doorhandle. Squeaking slightly as she turned it, she pulled it open and squeezed through the smallest possible opening. As she brought the door to a close behind her, she collapsed against it, her breath falling in ragged gasps around her as a sudden weariness overtook her body.

The staircase was dark as she made her way down it; her hands trailing the cold stonewall for guidance. In the common room the fire was burning low, its embers casting a flickering orange glow around the room making the shadows dance. The room was mercifully empty.

She dragged her tired limbs over to the couch closest to the flames and curling into a ball. Despite the fire, she shivered, longing for her warm bed upstairs.

Why was the lion following her? She wondered for the umpteenth time through a weary haze. Who had transfigured it? Obviously someone powerful. A pure blood, no doubt. She wished she could have the talent to do something like that, or at least the talent to get rid of it.

A yawn escaped her lips. She was too tired to deal with these thoughts right now. The room began to grow fuzzy. Her eyes closed slowly and the fire crackled to itself as she was pulled towards the escape of sleep. Things were just the way things were. She was born as she was. Sleeping on a couch was just one more price she had to pay for that fact.

She woke with a start, as though she had been shaken.

Voices. And the banging of the portrait door.

She looked in that direction but saw no one. Groggily, she blinked her eyes and rubbed them. How long had she slept? Not that long, surely.

Someone swore loudly. One of the boys from her year, the pudgy one, lay sprawled on the floor. She must have missed him before. She was about to open her mouth to ask if he was ok, but something stopped her. Was she still asleep? Peering across the dimly lit room, she could have sworn that the air… shifted.

She closed her eyes again. Seeing things. Not a good sign.

She heard the voices again. "Peter, you dolt. We've been over this. First one foot, then the other, and repeat."

There was a scuffling sound and the scraping of chairs. She opened her eyes once more, peering in the direction of the sound. Two other boys had joined the first; one, with dreadlocks framing his face, Black, she thought his name was, she had heard the other girls whisper about him. The other was her root thief. That Potter boy. She groaned inwardly and buried her face deeper into the armchair, hoping to block out the sound of their low voices.

Maybe they'd leave soon.

She wished she could tell them to go to bed.

Minutes ticked by and their voices continued, tinged with excitement. They weren't loud enough for Lily to hear what was being said, just enough for each word to drive itself into her, building up a wall of resentment as she urged sleep to come to her.

It seemed to go on for hours.

She managed to catch the odd word here and there. A squeaky voice seemed to be whinging.

"But why couldn't we just…"

An ear-shattering scream cut him off mid-sentence.

Lily jumped in alarm.

Someone swore.

Another let out an angry, "Peter!"

Lily heard the sound of a book snap shut heavily, but the screaming continued. It was painfully loud. It seemed to reverberate around her eardrums with a dangerous intensity. She clamped her hands tightly over her ears.

She was on her feet, whirling around to face the trio who were doing nothing to stop the noise except clamping their own ears shut with their hands. The sound was unbearable. She couldn't stand it.

"WILL. YOU. SHUT. THAT. THING. UP!" She yelled, hot anger emerging from the pain.

The three boys jumped and looked at her blankly.

"How long…" The Potter boy started, frowning at her.

Lily cursed. _Idiots._ "SILENCIO!" She screamed without thinking, wand in hand and aimed at the book.

To her amazement, and that of the boys, the room fell silent.

In the stunned calm that proceeded Lily saw the Potter boy look at his dreadlocked friend and laugh. "So simple. I'd've expected more from Dumbledore."

Black shrugged and looked thoughtful. "So much for Remus' theory. It was probably up to Pince to protect them."

"Wow!" Breathed Potter as he turned a page of the book, pointing at its contents. "Check this out, Sirius."

His friend grinned wickedly. "Could have some interesting effects."

Peter craned his neck for a view of the page. "It looks complicated."

Potter rolled his eyes. "Of course it would to you."

Lily brought her hand gingerly to her temple, swaying slightly on the spot. She felt numb with tiredness. The absence of the painful sound had left a dull ringing in her ears. The boys continued to talk excitedly among themselves, flipping pages of the book fervently. They appeared to have forgotten her presence.

Lily felt the hot anger that had filled her a moment ago shift into a feeling of weakness. The stress of the day, of the night, her nerves, and her aching fatigue were all threatening to overwhelm her. She felt as though she was standing on the edge of a precipice, and if she took one step forward, the veneer of self-control would collapse, and tears of built up frustration would spill down her cheeks.

She was suddenly all too conscious of her state; her dishevelled school robes, her hair, probably flying in every direction. And there she was, standing alone in the Common Room, hardly daring to glare at a pack of boys to whom she was barely worth noticing. She felt insignificant. Barred from her room by a beast someone had set on her and trapped in the Common Room like an outcast.

Slowl she slid back onto the couch, resuming her curled position.

The voices of the boys continued well into the small hours of the morning.


	7. Mornings

Sirius and Peter had given up and gone off to bed some time in the wee hours of the morning but James had remained behind, engrossed in the tales of humans turned animals that the book contained. Some of the stories he thought he could remember from history of magic, the tale of a criminal turned swan mistaken for a god for example, others were completely unknown to him but fascinating. All were beautifully illustrated, the ink magically preserved while the green leather in which the book was bound had faded and rotted away with the years; the illustrations were chilling though, transformations gone wrong. Images of horns ripping through skin and claws pulling out hair, men writhing in agony on the ground like snakes, their arms merged into their sides, one man drowning to death on land while newly formed gills opened and closed begging for water. The pictures moved of course, and by the time James' head finally succumbed to the heavy feeling filling it, the images were etched into his mind and filled his dreams. He dreamed of Sirius and Peter running around Hogwarts with limbs and features gleaned from at least 10 different animals each. Legs of rhinocerus, head of a horse, tail of a tiger, the silver scales of a fish, and as he watched them Sirius raised his head and gave the haunted howl of a werewolf.

He woke from his sleep at the sound of a thump on the stone floor. Gingerly he raised his head from where it had been pressed against the pages of the book and readjusted his glasses so they no longer hung off his face. He glanced around. It was early enough that pale streaks of sunlight were only just starting to breach the room's tall lace curtains and catch at the dust in the air. James watched, a smile spreading itself across his face, as the lion he had conjured yesterday slowly made its way down the female staircase, dimly noting as he watched that the staircase didn't break into sirens for animals.

The lion's head gave the slightest of turns towards James but continued past him to sit down, in much the same way a large dog might, in front of one of the couches, the look on its face was so intent it might have reflected a strange kind of longing. Curious, James leaned his chair back slightly and saw a small hand trailing off the couch and onto the floor. He sat back and continued to regard the beast, slowly his smile widened as though spurred on as the sun streaks stretched themselves lower into the room and illuminated the bright redness of the lion's mane.

James clicked his fingers twice. "Come here," he said soflty, confidently.

The lion looked towards James, then back at the couch, and then got up and moved heavily towards where James was sitting. James ran his fingers through the thick mane and rubbed the soft fur on the creatures ears, a grin on his face as the lion rubbed into the petting.

James checked the orbs floating around in his watch and stuffed the book he'd been reading into his bag, pulling out his cloak and his map as he did so.

He threw the silvery material over his head, leaving his left hand trailing out as a marker for the lion, and swept across the room to the portrait entrance.

"Come on," he said gently and the lion followed him out. James' grin transformed into a smirk as he headed down a passageway that led in the direction of the castle's dungeons.

- - -

The common room was empty by the time Lily woke up. The tension that comes with an uneasy sleep was still seeping through her bones. She was cold, shivering in fact. The fire hadn't been replenished by the house elves during the night, no doubt due to her presence on the couch. But that wasn't why she'd woken, she could have sworn she'd heard something in her sleep. She weighed up returning to her dormitory to get a jacket, and glanced towards the stairways, already seeing in her mind the fearful figure of the lion on her bed.

Something behind her creaked and she whirled around. Was that a tail disappearing out of the portrait hole? Was that a thump of something landing on the corridor floor outside? She rubbed her eyes. She could still be dreaming. But.

She lay still for a minute then heaved herself off the couch. The stairs to the girls tower were narrow and cold, but at least they didn't creak like wooden stairs did. She climbed the five flights of stairs that led to the fifth years' dormitory and pushed open the door. Her bed, with its generous red canopy, lay closest to the door on the right. And it was blissfully empty.

Lily sighed a sigh of relief and practically threw herself on it. She was asleep in minutes.

- - -

Later that morning James was levitating Peter down the corridor after he had fallen down a secret stairway and hurt his ankle. Every so often Peter would cry out as his head inevitably brushed against the roof in James' absentmindedness as they ran.

"I'll kill that wolf." Sirius growled between pants. "The nerve. Not waking us."

"He tried," James huffed. "I may have accidentally singed his eyebrows, though. Probably a good thing - "

They skidded as they turned a corner to avoid banging into a group of first years grouped around a doorway trying to open it.

"- The hex I was aiming for -"

"You have to tickle it!" Sirius yelled over his shoulder without stopping.

They looked at him as though he had two heads and quivered all the way down their robes.

"- Was much worse..." James continued with effort, wiping his brow. Peter tried to do a mid-air swivel to avoid a chandelier and failed.

"You never were... much good... spelling through your pillow..." wheezed Sirius.

They turned another corner and took the steps in a series of jumps. Peter's cries became more frequent.

"Quit your whining, freerider!" Yelled Sirius.

At the bottom of the stairs the air seemed to grow thicker with moisture and the scent of creeping mould.

"Finally!"

They raced down a long corridor and pushed on a heavy door that rasped like a dying breath as it slid open and practically fell through it. James let his wand fall and Peter fell uncerimoniously to the ground.

Sirius let out a howl of rage. "He's not even here yet!"

James checked his watch. 25 minutes past nine. He glanced around the potions classrooms; tired and bored Grythindors sat staring at the blackboard, none of whom looked particularly startled by them entering loudly and lately, and a lot of empty seats – no Slytherins had come down yet.

James grinned and made his way over to their table where Sirius was currently bewitching a rolled up parchment to hit Remus on the back of his head.

"Stop it! Not my fault you're late! No, ouch!"

"Boys," James interrupted them, pointing his wand lazily at the blackboard in the front of the room.

In a heavily stylised scrawl were the words; "_Good morning eager students, I have a little House related matter to clear up. Be good, get cracking on Chapter Five. Should be done in a jiffy... __Á__ plus tard, Professor Slughorn"._

"Good God, he's even pretentious in his notes," remarked Sirius, letting the parchment fall to the ground.

"I've been trying to figure out what's keeping him and the Slytherins," Remus said, hitting Sirius on the head in retribution.

"Ah, well. That." James smirked, letting his smugness wash over his friends.

Sirius' eyes twinkled. "Has little Jamsie been up to no good?"

"Little Jamsie _has_ been up to no good. Little Jamsie found the lion he transfigured yesterday and they went for a walk."

Sirius clapped him on the back. "Oh very good show."

Remus shook his head. "What do you mean? Where did you find it? When?"

"Now, now, Moony, you're not the only early riser here. Some of us were up at the crack of dawn, and it just happened to be coming down from the girls' dormitory into the common room. I merely thought it might appreciate seeing a different part of the castle, and in particular a different common room, so it could see just how lucky it was to be the mascot of one of the better houses."

"Maybe. And I maybe might have mentionned Snape's name to it as I opened up their entrance. I'm sure it's having a cracking time."

"And what about the students?"

"Oh Remus, they're Slytherins. Sure they're cowardly and slimy, but their not exactly real people, are they?"

"Here's hoping it got Regulus." Sirius muttered.

The four of them crossed their fingers just as the dungeon door creaked open once more and a thunderous looking Slughorn.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N:

If there are any inconsistancies between this chapter and the ones before it, check the Published date and the Update date. There's about 2 years difference.

For any returned readers, some things which made me cringe to reread have been changed, as has the species of large cat following Lily, for poetic reasons rather than anything else.

Sorry to leave off this chapter at such a weak spot, it's just I'm tired and have to go to bed, you understand. The next one has slightly more happening than just filler.

Please review, tell me if you love it or why you hate it....


	8. Ingredients

Slughorn had always been a portly man, one who enjoyed his consumable pleasures. But Lily had never seen him fill up a classroom like this before. His bushy eyebrows were pushed together as he pushed the door open with a bang and marched in. Behind him trailed a crew of disheveled Slytherins, looking forlorn and shaken with their hair not done and their ties askew. Mutters and soft giggles ran around the seated Gryffindors. As the last Slytherin boy entered, left arm carried in a makeshift sling, a whooping laugh erupted from the dread locked Black.

"Sir?" Her root thief shot his hand up. "Sir, what happened?"

Slughorn ignored him and sank into the chair behind his desk heavily. He began opening his drawers and searching through them.

Lily put her head down onto the parchment in front of her, focusing in on the heavy, musty smell to clear the tired and angry stare she might have otherwise thrown at Potter from her face. She'd been sitting close enough to hear his bragging. It was him: root thief, noise polluter, lion conjurer. And yet his question sounded so innocent. Oh the nerve.

"Sir?" Black's hand shot up next to Potters. "Sir, Severus looks hurt... do you think he ought to go to the hospital wing?"

Slughorn turned a weary expression to the boy with the sling and then to Black. "If Severus wishes to remain in class that is completely within his own discretion." His gave was diverted once more to his desk drawer as he apparently came across the object of his search. With a hand that trembled slightly he raised some kind of chocolate truffle to his mouth; his eyes fluttered closed momentarily as he popped it in. He sighed a small sigh of relief and rose and turned to rub off his message from the blackboard.

From where she was sitting Lily could hear the whispers of rumours being passed around the dungeon classroom. She looked up as she heard someone stop at the table in front of hers and say something to Potter and Black.

The boy with the sling was glaring so hard she was sure his eyes would pop out of his slitted eyes because of the pressure. "I wouldn't give you the pleasure of going to the hospital wing, Black, _Potter_." He practically spat the last word out as though it were poison.

The thief laughed, a light laugh, almost jovial. "Now, now, Snivellus. I'm sure that arm of yours is hurting you. I must say, it's very brave of you to come to class with it, but then, I'm sure it's probably your _admiration_ for Black and myself that's making you struggle on."

Black made a seductive throat rumble, almost like a lion's roar, and curled his hand like a swiping claw.

Severus hissed, and struggled to raise his wand with his good hand whilst still trying to support his books under his arm.

"Don't make me poke that sling of yours, Snivellus," Black warned.

"Come on, come on. Take a seat!" Came Slughorn, turning around to face the class again.

With one more glare Severus took the only seat remaining in the room, next to Lily. She quickly looked down once more.

"Right," Slughorn said taking a large breath to finish off his recomposure. "Chapters read? Yes? Good. Slytherins, I'm sorry. You'll have to read as you go, we haven't the time. Now I want you to get your base ingredients cut and chopped and start it simmering, we don't have time to mess about with this one, I'm sorry. Then I want you to prepare the excalador solution in a separate pot and slowly, _slowly_, heat it before you add it. Careful with it, it's flammable..."

Lily got to work. In no time at all she had cut her ingredients and threw them into the pewter cauldron bubbling slowly in front of her. She inhaled the fumes carefully, they were just a tad weak. She grabbed a couple of extra scurvy-grass petals and chopped them finely and threw them in.

She was about to go onto the next stage when she glanced across the table and saw the boy pathetically attempting to chop his ingredients one handed, fuming while Potter and Black sniggered one table over.

Lily moved down the table towards him.

"Here," she said, gently pulling the chopping board away from the boy and quickly slicing the small pile of lovages, scurvy-grass and sneezewort before passing it back to him.

Severus looked at the neatly chopped ingredients for a moment, his brow, glistening slightly from the heat of the cauldron fires surrounding them, was farrowed as he stared at them. He then looked up at Lily for the briefest of minutes before gathering his ingredients up in his palms and gently scattering them into the simmering water. His expression didn't change throughout.

Lily sidled back down the table to her cauldron, feeling embarrassed and presumptuous.

She read the next section of her potions book, then again when the words slipped out of her head as quickly as they entered, before she began measuring out some shimmering amber powder into a small skillet over a flame and adding a few droplets of lacewing oil. _Two drops, three drops, _then... she paused; the words had left her head again.

She blinked and leaned over her book again, scanning the small print for the next instruction.

All at once her skillet startled to fizz and spit, and little spirals of smoke started to rise up off it.

Lily jumped and tried to reach for it but yanked her hand back with a yelp as a little droplet of mixture landed painfully on her skin.

Then the skillet began to rise of its own accord, away from the flame and onto the workbench next to Lily.

She stared at it in confusion for a moment, then noticed Severus at the other end of the bench holding his wand in his non-injured hand pointing at it. He lowered his arm when he saw Lily watching.

"It's probably done heating."

Lily nodded dumbly. "...Thanks."

Severus nodded stiffly, that same frown still on his face.

They both went back to their work, and an hour later, with only a cursory glance in everyone's cauldron, Slughorn let them go.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hands up who hates me?

Go on, review. You know you want to. I can see the amount of readers of this thing far outweighs the number of reviewers, why not try and even out the balance?

Cheers -

E


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